


What happens in Drustvar...

by Cadoan



Series: The Spy and the Scoundrel [13]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Anal Sex, Drust!Flynn, M/M, Magic, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:34:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24053704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cadoan/pseuds/Cadoan
Summary: Shaw is on a mission in Drustvar to find a relic. He comes across something else.Inspired by art!
Relationships: Flynn Fairwind/Mathias Shaw
Series: The Spy and the Scoundrel [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1548517
Comments: 14
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by Raven’s art for day 3 of Fairshaw week, which was superstition.
> 
> You can find the amazing artwork here  
> https://twitter.com/bastet406/status/1258215853037944832?s=21

Mathias shivered as he trudged up the narrow, winding mountain path. The Drustvar wind was cold and bitter, even more so this far up a mountain. 

There were something in the air in Drustvar, something otherworldly. Wickerbeasts and witches and ancient magic speaking of forces that Shaw just couldn’t wrap his head around. These were drust lands, and Shaw knew he needed to have his wits about him. 

The narrow path finally opened up to a cave mouth, suddenly appearing in the side of the mountain. According to the information Shaw had gathered, in that cave lay the relic he was searching for. He stood still outside the dark entrance for a long while, listening. No sound could be heard from inside.

Shaw slid daggers into his hands and took the step needed to enter the cave. The wind from outside suddenly grew quiet. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the relative darkness compared to the blinding white now outside, but when they did, he saw nothing but empty cave walls. 

He noticed however, how the cave he thought would be damp and cold, was a pleasant temperature. The fact made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. It shouldn't be, not this far up a mountain. Something wasn’t right.

"Who are you, treading onto my lands?" Suddenly, a voice cut through the empty and silent space. Out of the shadows in the back of the cave stepped a tall, broad man, which fiery long hair and a shirt beard. His hair billowed down over his shoulders, almost like a mane. He wore a long, brown robe that went almost all the way to the floor, with long sleeves. His eyes were an icy blue, glowing softly in the dim light. 

On top of his head sat a large crown made out of gnarled roots, stretching up towards the cave ceiling. The air seemed to shimmer around him, and as he walked closer to Shaw, moss appeared on the cave floor where he stepped. Shaw pulled back his arms, combat stance, ready to fight off any attack. The man looked down at Shaw's weapons for a moment, and then shook his head.

"Oh no, there will be no fighting here."

Something dangerous flared to life in the eyes of the man, and the air grew thick and heavy with something otherworldly. 

“Have you come to fight me?”

Shaw felt compelled to tell the truth, and it wasn't just because of the immediate danger to his life. No, there was something else there as well, something in the bottom of his stomach _wanting_ to tell the truth.

“No,” he said truthfully. “I harbour no ill intent towards you.” 

The thick air dissipated, and the dangerous look disappeared from the man’s eyes. Shaw slowly and carefully put his knives back in their sheaths, showing that he had meant his words. The man took a step closer, and Shaw realised that what he had thought was a cloth robe, was in fact something else. When the man got closer, he could see how the garment seemed almost alive, and when the man stepped even closer, he could see that it was made out of roots and vines, that slowly twisted and moved across the man’s body.

“Why have you come here?” asked the man, and there was something akin to curiosity in his voice and gaze. 

The man was standing right in front of Shaw now, and there was something incredibly alluring, almost magnetic, drawing Shaw in. The smell of forest and wood and moss almost washed over him, and Shaw realised that it was the man smelling like the very lands around them. 

“I am looking for a relic,” he said, once again truthful. It was as if he was compelled to speak the truth.

The man gave Shaw another curious look.

“Interesting.” The man seemed to give pause for a moment, before continuing. “We’ll see about that later.”

Shaw stayed quiet, watching, waiting. Trying to figure out who, _what_ , this man was.

"Aren't you pleasing to look at," the man said and looked Shaw up and down. Shaw could almost feel the gaze wandering over his body, and it made a shiver run down his spine. There was something hungry in the man’s eyes, and it made something dark and hungry inside him react in kind. His blood started pumping faster, and a part of him told him to run, but he didn’t. Shaw didn’t perceive the man as an immediate threat, but he was definitely powerful, and Shaw realised that it thrilled him.

“What is your name?” Icy blue eyes flicked up to meet his, and another shiver shot through Shaw. He licked his suddenly chapped lips before answering.

“Shaw.”

The man cocked his head to the side, causing his hair to cascade. His crown stayed firmly in place atop his head.

“Shaw...” The man seemed to try out the name, tasting it. “A peculiar name, but not a bad one.”

“And what do I call you?”

The man smiled widely. “I thought you would never ask. You can call me Fairwind.”

Shaw recognised the name. He had heard the locals say it in hushed whispers, almost like a blessing, or even a curse. He was standing in front of something ancient, of that he was sure now. 

Fairwind started walking around Shaw in a circle, Shaw following him in his peripheral vision until he was standing right in front of him again.

“Curious,” Fairwind said. “Most people would have ran by now, screaming in fear.”

Shaw wasn’t sure what possessed him to say it, but he did anyways.

“I suppose I am not like most people.”

That drew a surprised laugh out of Fairwind, a laugh that seemed to wrap and coil around Shaw and root him in place.

“Oh, I _like_ you,” Fairwind said as he finished laughing. “You’re free to leave whenever. Or,” Fairwind said and reached out his hand, placing it in the middle of Shaw’s chest. “you could stay.” 

To Shaw, it felt like there were no layers of leather or cloth between them at all, something electrifying to the man’s touch that shot through his limbs and making his blood rush. It was so powerful his knees almost buckled, but he stayed upright, catching himself. 

“Careful,” Fairwind said with a throaty chuckle that made the dark thing in Shaw’s stomach grow. It was primal and it urged him on, and he gave into it. Shaw surged forward and pulled himself flush to Fairwind, and Shaw could swear he could hear Fairwind give a pleased rumble, akin to a stone elemental milling about. A strong arm came to wrap around his waist and then, he was pulled into a kiss that tasted like rain.

It caught him off guard for a moment, but Shaw soon got his bearings and angled his head so that he could deepen the kiss, lips open and receptive to Fairwind’s tongue. A part of Shaw told him that he must be dreaming, or hallucinating, but that thought soon disappeared completely, lost in the ebb and flow of the kiss. Shaw felt a large hand cup the back of his head, and he tried to hold onto something, fingers digging into the slowly twisting vines of the man’s clothing. He was overcome by the urge, the _need_ to feel Fairwind’s skin against his, and he moved his hands to start untying the knots and buckles of his uniform. Fairwind, as if knowing exactly what Shaw wanted, broke the kiss and took half a step backwards. Shaw watched in awe as the vines and roots making up the robe started pulling back, slowly revealing Fairwind’s naked form. He was large and broad, and his chest was covered by auburn hair that trailed down over his stomach, into a nest of hair right above his cock. Shaw almost dropped to his knees on the spot to take Fairwind’s cock into his mouth, but Fairwind spoke, stopping him.

“Lie.”

Shaw obliged, expecting to feel cold stone - but no, instead he found soft moss underneath. He was almost painfully hard, standing at full attention. Fairwind got on his knees and straddled him, and in a smooth motion, he rolled his hips so that the head of Shaw’s cock sat right at his entrance. 

“Mmm, perfect,” Fairwind mused and placed one hand on Shaw’s shoulder. Then, he sat back, and Shaw could feel the man’s opening give way, allowing Shaw’s cock inside. It was a slow and almost maddening process, but soon, Shaw’s cock was fully seated inside the man above him. 

Shaw had never experienced anything like it in his life. Fairwind was hot and tight around him, and he had to force himself to not just fuck up into the man above him with abandon. Shaw tried to get his mess of thoughts together, but then, Fairwind started rolling his hips. Shaw eyes slide close by themselves as his cock was enveloped in tight heat over and over and over, and Fairwind’s grip on his shoulder pinned him firmly to the ground, as if the rock itself was holding him in place.

Fairwind’s cock lay hot and heavy on Shaw’s stomach, dragging back and forth over his abdomen. He lost track of time, his head swimming, lust thundering through him. He forced his eyes open again, and his breath hitched at the sight that greeted him.

The man on top of him looked absolutely glorious. The crown of gnarled wood still sat perfectly atop his head, which was tossed back in bliss. His hair cascaded down over his shoulders, and what seemed like small vines has started writhe over his skin, the blue in his eyes glowing stronger with that ghostly light. There was electricity in the air, and Shaw could feel his climax approaching. His limbs were starting to go numb, blood rushing to his head, and he was quickly approaching the edge of the cliff.

“Fairwind-” he barked out, a warning, and Fairwind tilted his face down to meet Shaw’s gaze. A wave of magic and nature and the endlessness of time passing washed over him and he was absolutely lost to it, helpless.

“You’re close,” Fairwind said, his voice like thunder. Fairwind lifted his hips quickly, and Shaw gasped like a fish on land when he was suddenly exposed to the relatively cold air. Fairwind’s grip on his shoulder was steel, and when Fairwind said “Come now,” his orgasm shot through him like white hot lightning. He came with a broken moan, untouched, pulsating as he shot his come into the air, onto the small of Fairwind’s back. 

Fairwind’s hips were moving again, cock dragging over Shaw’s skin, and Shaw didn’t know if mere seconds or an eternity passed before Fairwind suddenly stilled and he felt hot come land on his chest, on his chin, on his lips. Instinctively he licked his lips, and the taste of the ocean spread across his tongue. Fairwind leaned down and Shaw could feel a warm tongue on his chest, then on his chin, eventually licking into his mouth. 

Shaw accepted the kiss, embraced it, relished in it, until it was over much too quickly. 

“Thank you,” Flynn spoke as he released his grip on Shaw’s shoulder. “I haven’t been this entertained in ages. Now, rest.”

Shaw felt his eyelids grow heavy, and then, he was asleep.

/

When Shaw came to, he was lying on his back in the cave. He blinked a few times before he sat up. He was fully clothed, and next to him sat a small stone with a faintly glowing tune carved into it. The relic he had been searching for. He reached out and grabbed it, quickly pocketing it. He then looked around the cave, shivering. Cold and dank, like most other caves. He thought about Fairwind. Had it all really been a dream? A spell cast on him? He wasn’t entirely sure. He got to his feet.

One thing he was sure of however, was that he was being watched as he exited the cave. 


	2. Chapter 2

When Shaw exited the cave, relic tucked safely into a satchel attached to his belt, he was troubled to see that the sun was setting. It didn’t make sense, since he had set out early that day from Arom’s Stand to make sure he would make it back before dusk. He threw a glance back at the cave opening. Had it all been a hallucination? He had clearly been knocked unconscious by _something_ , perhaps an effect of first coming into contact with the relic. He pushed the thought aside for now, pushed aside the feeling of lingering touches and a hard, naked body against his.

Shaw shook his head lightly and peered up at the sky, trying to figure out how late into the day it actually was. He needed to focus on getting back to town as fast as possible. The locals had told him to not be alone in the woods once the sun had set, and Shaw had no intentions of getting lost in the mist. He had already experienced... _odd_... things in his hunt for this relic, to say the least, and he felt no need to challenge fate any more than neccessary. He trekked down the side of the mountain as fast as possible, racing the setting sun. Once he made it down to the tree line, the forest was dark around him. The sky was a fiery orange that could be seen through the branches above, but almost none of the light made it down to the ground. Shaw eventually made it to the closest road, narrow and cobbled, winding through the forest. He had the distinct feeling of being watched, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end, but he hadn’t noticed anyone following him. The forest around him seemed to come alive however, and from further into the woods you could hear what sounded like tree splitting and crashing together. Shaw was not feeling the need whatsoever so find out what was causing the sound, so he kept moving forwards, back towards Arom’s Stand. Soon enough, he made it out of the forest and started heading up the slope towards the entrance of the town. The sky har started to turn into a deep dark blue, the stars twinkling above and the snow shining white around him.

Once he approached the gates of the town, he let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. He heard a bird caw in the distance up ahead, and he felt compelled to look up. Way up high, perched on the large stone gate entrance to the settlement, Shaw could see the outline of a bird. As he got closer to the gate, there was another caw, and Shaw could swear that the animal was watching him. There was something hollow about the animal sound that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, and as he got closer, he could see how the bird was no ordinary raven, no - it seemed to be made out of sticks and rocks and leaves, like the wicker beasts he had seen in the woods of Drustvar. It tilted it’s head so it’s hollow eye socket was aimed at Shaw, and Shaw could swear the bird was looking at him. For a moment, time seemed to come to a standstill where they were just staring at each other in silence. Then, a blue light flared to life in the space where the bird’s eye would have been, and it cawed loudly again before taking flight, swooping high above Shaw in the direction back towards the woods. Shaw turned to look at the creature as it disappeared out of his vision, as if he was expecting something to happen. Nothing did, and he could hear nothing else but the faint sounds of the town up ahead.

Shaw rubbed his hand over his face in a quick motion, blinking a few times. There definitely was something strange going on in these lands. Then, he continued up into the town. No one stopped him, or even paid him any attention, as he made his way to the inn. The merchant’s stalls were empty and most of the town was quiet. The only sound was coming from the inn, singing and loud talking. It seemed like the townspeople took solace in a warm fire and each other’s companionship during the long nights. Shaw completely ignored the hustle and bustle of the inn’s main room and quickly made his way up to his rented room. A quick check to make sure that no one had been inside later, and he was alone. He quickly lit the oil lantern on the dresser and efficiently removed his gear. He folded it neatly and placed it on a nearby chair, strapping off his weapons - apart from the one strapped to his inner thigh, of course - and sat down next to the surprisingly large wooden table that took up one corner of the room. He placed the satchel with the relic on the table and took out a piece of parchment. He needed to report back to Boralus with his findings, but as he reached for the ink and quill that was just an arms length away, he realised how tired he was. He could send the report first thing tomorrow morning. He stood and stretched his arms above his head, his bones cracking ominously. Then, he grabbed another knife from his folded uniform before turning off the lamp and climbing into bed. He tucked the other knife under his pillow, turned so he was facing the door and closed his eyes. It didn’t take long until he fell asleep, exhaustion coming over him.

/

When he blinked awake, the room was bathing in warm light. He had turned in his sleep so he was facing the window, and as his senses sharpened and the tendrils of sleep let go of him, he realised he had slept for way longer than he had anticipated. He rolled over onto his back and yawned. He could hear the sounds of the blacksmith working a piece of metal in the distance, and he was surprised that the rhythmic clanging hadn’t woken him. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and yawned. His stomach growled and his body was craving caffeine, but those things would have to wait. First thing first - the report back to Boralus had to be written.

He got out of bed and walked over to table, to where he had left the piece of parchment. He sat by the table and quickly jotted down a report. It was in code, of course, and the parchment was magically linked to its twin back in Boralus, so that any word written on one end would show up on the other. Shaw signed off rolled up the piece of parchment into a little scroll. Time to wait for further instructions. Then, he got dressed, tucked away his things, secured the door and headed down to the inn to buy something to  
eat.

Breakfast was uneventful, and the inn was mostly empty, save the bartender who was a tall, slim, mousy looking man with hair that looked like it hadn’t been washed in a while. Shaw finished his breakfast in peace and when he got back up to the room, he immediately noticed how the text on the parchment still lying on the table had changed, meaning there was a message from Boralus. He placed his fingers on the parchment and turned it around, allowing for him to read it. The message was short, also in code, and Shaw quickly decided it to the following:

_Message received. Await further orders_.

Shaw blew out air through his nose as he read the message again. He picked it up, rolled it up tightly and tucked it into a pocket. There was no knowing for how long he’d be waiting for orders, so it was time to get comfortable. As comfortable as possible, at least.

/

A few days later, there had been no word back from Boralus. Shaw was getting antsy, and he could feel it in his bones. There wasn’t much to do in Arom’s Stand, and there was not much of note happening - apart from the eerie air that seemed to permeate throughout the whole region. The townspeople were mostly quiet and eyed him with suspicion - something Shaw didn’t fault them for. They _should_ be suspicious of him - he was a stranger, after all. Shaw had taken to not wearing his full uniform as he walked through town, since the intricate blue and gold stood out like a sore thumb amidst the locals’ dress in different shades of brown. Instead, he wore a brown, somewhat tattered petticoat, brown trousers and linen shirt that allowed for him to blend in a bit more. Still, he was anxious, and lying in his bed trying to fall asleep three days later, he was tossing and turning.

“Light be damned...”

Shaw rolled onto his back and looked out through the window. The moon hung high and full in the sky, only a few small clouds in the way. Shaw let out a frustrated sound. He needed to relieve some energy in some way, blow off some steam. Maybe he should jerk himself off. It usually helped him relax, and he could be quick and efficient about it. He pulled down his smallclothes and wrapped his hand around his soft cock, starting to stroke it with a practiced efficiency and a knowing flick of his wrist. He sunk back into the pillows and closed his eyes, focusing on the friction and his hold, and he soon started growing hard. It didn’t take to long until he was hot and heavy in his own hand, and he sped up his stroking. It felt good, but something was missing, wasn’t pushing him past the edge. He furrowed his brow and sped up his stroking, focused on the feeling of it, tried to push himself over the edge-

“Gah!”

Shaw gave a frustrated exclamation, stilling his hand and opening his eyes. He stared up into the ceiling for a moment before drawing in a deep breath. He would have to try something else if he was going to get release. Slowly, he started his stroking back up, and he wanted more. He moved his hand up to his mouth and sucked two of his fingers into his mouth, sliding his tongue inbetween them.

He rarely took the time to do what he was about to do since he thought it somewhat of a hassle, but it was as if his body had a mind of his own right now. He coated his fingers with saliva and a little fire started burning at the bottom of his stomach. He continued his slow stroking of his shaft, his cock hardening even more in his hold at thought of what he was going to do. Having deemed his fingers coated enough he removed them from his mouth and scooted up on the bed so he was half propped up against the headboard. He tilted to the side, giving himself the space to be able to move his hand down behind himself. He shivered as he brushed his fingers against his puckered opening, his cock twitching slightly in his grip. He circled his entrance first, before relaxing. Then, he applied pressure.

He gasped softly as he breached himself, and before long, he was fucking himself with two fingers, in and out, curling lightly, looking for that spot inside him he knew would push over. He used his other hand to continue his stroking, and his muscles started to lock up, pressure starting f to build. Shaw screwed his eyes shut as he chased that feeling, curling his fingers even more.

There was a shift in the air, almost sudden, and suddenly Shaw felt like there was electricity in the air. He swore he could smell rain, the smell of earth, and he tightened his hold on his cock, bucking his hips to fuck into his fist, imaging it being a person, imagining being buried to the hilt in heat. Suddenly, images flashed quickly before his inner eye: long auburn hair and blue eyes, of lying down with moss beneath of. At that point he found that spot with his fingers and he swore loudly, burying his face into his bicep as a wave of just crashed over him. He swore as his muscles locked up, and he was taut as the string of a bow, and when he found the spot inside him again, he swore he could hear someone speaking his name:

_Shaw_.

He couldn’t hold on any longer and he he started coming harder than he had ever done from just his own hands before, curling in on himself in a twitch of muscles, moaning a name as he was pulled under.

_“Fairwind-!”_

His vision whited out, his hips buckled and then he spilled himself on the mattress, twitching in his own fist. The arm propping him up gave out and he fell onto his side.

As he lay there getting back to reality, he slowly removed his fingers from within himself. He rolled over onto his back and stared up into the inn ceiling with wide eyes, blinking slowly. He lied there for a long while, his breathing and heartbeat calming as he came down from the high of his orgasm. Eventually, he get out of bed and walked over to the washing bowl and large pitcher of water. He quickly and efficiently used soap to scrub his hands, and then rinsing them off. He cupped his hands and filled them with water, splashing it onto his face. He gripped the sides of the small table the bowl and pitched was placed upon and leaned in to study himself in the small mirror that hung on the wall. His hair, greying at the temples, were tousled from the tossing and turning he had just previously done. His moustache was awry and his eyebrows were knitted together in a show of concentration. Then, he looked himself in the eye and whisper to himself, a silent question:

“Fairwind..?”

**Author's Note:**

> The thought of drust!Flynn has awoken something in me because I wrote this in some sort of frenzy. It’s weeelll into the next day now, and I must sleep.


End file.
